I've had one of those days, except its been a series of days. Those days where so many little things keep going wrong. Anne Lamott, a favorite Christian writer of mine, says these days, these little frustrations serve to birth something really beautiful. I'm still waiting for the something beautiful.
Let me explain. On my way out a Hebrew Exam on Friday, I found my driver's side mirror hanging off my car, three hours before I was supposed to drive down to Baltimore. After cursing the town of Princeton and all the rich, SUV driving yuppies in it, I took my car down the street to the mechanic where I was guilted into renting a car.
Next at the pharmacy I needed to stop at before leaving town, I discovered my doctor had not called in my prescription. Awesome.
On the way down to Baltimore, I stopped for a coke. I asked for a medium, but seeing that a medium meant a cup as tall as me, I asked for a small. The girl working the register looked at me as if I had just asked her to build a spaceship out of paperclips that could send me to the moon. I said I would take the large.
There was all kinds of traffic.
Upon arriving at my hotel, I realized my door was difficult. I tried unsuccessfully to open it with all my bags on me for about 10 minutes before going to the front desk. After the hotel "engineer" showed me that I paradoxically needed to pull and push it at the same time, I kind of got it, but it provided endless entertainment the rest of the weekend.
Later that night, coming back at midnight, my friend Erin couldn't park her car because an event entitled "Fierce, Fabulous and Fortunate" was taking place in the hotel's ballroom.
The next day, I tried to find a movie theatre but got stuck in traffic and missed them all.
Last night, I sat down to figure out some financial stuff only to realize A: the website the financial aid people sent me to wasn't acknowledging my school's existence, B: my credit card payment was actually due the day before, resulting in a $35 fee, C: I haven't gotten any work study or field ed money yet, and D: the people in San Antonio that owe me a refund (long story) are choosing not to acknowledge me
The section of the library I need has been closed both times I've tried to go.
The auditorium I need for the play I'm putting on has a roof that's caving in and we can't rehearse in there for a month.
I looked at the wrong shuttle times (because remember my car is still in the shop) and got to school way late.
My curtains have fallen down.
By now, you're undoubtedly all singing the Charlie Brown sad song for me. But seriously, all this has been so frustrating, and one side of you is like "How bad can it be? You have food and shelter and don't have AIDS or someone chasing you with a machete." In my selfishness, though, I don't what the beautiful thing being born is. I didn't fall in love at the mechanic's, or find a space even better than the auditorium, or find out about some amazing opportunity to build orphanages on the Galapagos Island while riding the shuttle.
If my frustrations have impacted your life for the better, please let me know.